That Could Be My Second Name
by Sand of Sea
Summary: Short one-shot about my headcanon of America's second name. Revolutionary war AU. Rated T because wanted to be sure...


**A/N:** Really, really short one-shot about my headcanon what America's second name is. Enjoy~!

**Disclaimer: Hetalia, or it's characters do not belong to me, they are the creation of Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**~~That Could Be My Second Name~~**

Alfred F. Jones.

Alfred _F._ Jones.

America never revealed what the F. in his name stood for. He hadn't always had a second name either. England didn't give it to him like he gave the 'Alfred Jones' in America's childhood. And this is why England can't help but wonder what the F. in America's human name might mean.

America is stubborn to keep it that way. He wanted to be the only one to know what the F. stood for. It was a secret that made him smile softly at himself and his people.

_The wind furrowed his hair softly._

It was also a secret that made him just a bit sad. Yearning. Reminiscing.

"_I want to be free!"_

A memory flashed itself on the back of America's eyelids.

"_I… Cannot do it"_

It was a very sad memory.

"_You used to be so big…"_

America couldn't help remembering everything that had happened _then_. It was like it had happened just yesterday.

.

It was raining outside. America felt the pressure suffocating him more and more with every drop hitting the roof of the small building. It was like the water filled his lungs, like he was drowning. Not that he ever showed it.

"We have to do this! For freedom! For us!" he heard himself shouting, beating the wooden surface of the table, punctuating all the important words.

The response to every sentence leaving his mouth was a thundering approval of not really much experienced soldiers. Every _real_ soldier on this land was British. But this matter was one which America needed his own soldiers for.

It was time the baby eagle got out of its nest, since the nest didn't have enough space for him to move anymore.

Actually, it never had had.

.

England was covering his eyes, collapsed down to the ground. He made noises that were not unlike a wounded dog's whining. America was pained to look at him, the small weeping man, really. England had managed to fly America's rifle off his hands, but couldn't bring himself to shoot him. Instead he fell to the ground, muttering to God why everything had to happen like this. England was completely vulnerable now.

"Leave," America said finally with a small voice.

He turned his back to the once very great country and saw the once beautiful land that was burnt from some places, rotten with bodies, blood staining the ground, running in little rivers along with the rain.

The British retreated and America heard victorious shouts from his soldiers. They probably will celebrate their win the second the British ships weren't in the horizon.

America would join them. He just needed his time alone. He strutted forward the woods, remembering a large meadow on the other side. The sun seemed to start peeking from the cracks of the clouds, as though knowing exactly when the war had ended.

"Mr. America! Where're you going?"

America smiled at his chaser. Actually it would be nice if someone would be with him.

"Want to come with me?" he asked, not really able to grin all that much, though.

They walked in abnormal silence in the shadow of the trees until they were met up with a yellow meadow that reached beyond their sight. The clouds created different shaped shadows on the field, the wind blowing gently at their figures. America smiled softly at the view. He tried not to think about England's haunting sobs or England at all.

"We're free," America breathed out.

_I'm free._

Freedom. It was a word he ought to live up to now.

"We're free," America's companion admitted. "You know, I never listened to anyone and just lived life my own way", the soldier continued.

Freedom.

"I thought that I already was free," he shrugged and smiled.

Freedom. Freedom?

Hah!

"You are now. We all are!" America raised his voice and began laughing.

Freedom.

That could be my second name!


End file.
